


Quantum Entanglement (Or Seven Universes of Bad Luck)

by sian1359



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-11
Updated: 2009-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-04 08:52:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian1359/pseuds/sian1359
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when a quantum mirror is broken?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quantum Entanglement (Or Seven Universes of Bad Luck)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SGA Flashfic Crossing Challenge. Word Count of ~11,5000

None of them thought much of the broken window they found in the room. Even with it being five years, there were still miles and miles of unexplored areas to be cleared within the heart of Atlantis and even before sieges, Ancients, Replicators and the need to fly the city to a new planet, the expedition constantly found areas in disarray or damaged from the time of the original Lanteans. Finding one wholly intact would be the oddity, especially in levels below the waterline.

Despite Ronon's comment on how the missing piece of glass seemed to form a dagger (John just saw an ill-formed stake), John didn't think much beyond someone must have deliberately thrown something through the window to have it shatter like that. And wondered if it had been a lover's tiff or simply a blow-up amongst scientist although -- so far -- none of _Rodney's_ people had dared actually throwing something Rodney's direction for all that it was obvious even Radek wanted to do so more than once. John also had a stray wonder as to why the Ancients had used real glass in some instances versus something transparent but many times more durable in others, and why for all their vaunted technologies and architectural prowess, they'd never come up with something like tempered safety glass?

Then he began imagining what might happen once a fluster of Rodney's soft scientists came into this room in a follow-up of the Team's survey and one of the tripping -- just as likely over their own feet -- and falling against the jagged glass. A long row of stitches would be considered the best of that outcome. So while Rodney hooked into one of the wall inset consoles to determine if this had been a private or public room and maybe its original intent, John pulled out a pair of leather gloves from his tac vest and gestured for Ronon to give him a hand removing the shards, leaving Teyla to keep an eye on Rodney and hopefully keep him out of trouble.

The first few pieces came out easily, creating new shapes left behind or in their hands that Ronon started identifying too, with even Teyla getting into the act in suggesting one looked a little like the dragon with Sean Connery's voice she was so fond of. All a little weird since neither Ronon nor Teyla were prone to whimsy. John eventually chalked it up to too many days in a row stuck on Atlantis without being able to go off-world, and their new habit of weaving nap and bedtime stories for Torren a couple of times a day.

Even John and Rodney had been asked to take their turns soothing Teyla's son, Rodney sticking to the classics like the Grimm Brothers' fairy tales -- in their original forms of course, but considering this was Pegasus and almost all of the indigenous tales and fables involved the Wraith, what were a few pecked out eyes and chopping off bits of toes and heels to fit a shoe? Knowing Torren was really only understanding noise, tone and touches, John still kept his away from the slasher or sci fi films he used to relate to the older Athosion children back during their first year when they cohabitated in Atlantis, but he still picked television, movie and comic book plots that involved monsters or animals that allowed him to growl and make silly faces.

When one particularly stubborn piece of glass (that Ronon declared Indiana Jones' hat and John almost admitted did look a little like a fedora) refused to budge, John was only concerned with keeping the glass from breaking under the increasing pressure of his grip. It was natural for him to brace a foot against the bottom lintel and wrap his left hand along an already cleared side of the frame. Even with the sudden thrum that denoted Ancient technology abruptly sparking across his mind causing the hairs on the back of his neck to lift in dread, John was only thinking: _huh, why would a window have a power conduit running through its frame_ and _shit, this is going to hurt_ just before the crackle and sparks raced across his body.

**1\. **

"Johnny? Johnny, shit, you've got to wake up!"

The words made little sense to Johnny; after all, he was already awake if he heard them, right?

"Rodney, I can't get him --"

"Busy here, Katie! You know, the spell?"

Only that wasn't Rodney answering, it was Sam and she, like Katie, sounded scared. Well, Katie almost always sounded scared now that she wasn't a Vengeance Demon anymore, Johnny frowned to himself.

It had to be hard going from having the power to grant wishes even if it was in the most literal and negative sense, to being merely human again. Especially when none of the rest of them really were human themselves any longer; even Evan had gotten that military upgrade several Halloweens ago and used to train regularly with Larrin and The Traveler Initiative to retain those magically acquired skills. Johnny had to wonder if that was why Carson had left Atlantis after graduation to go work for Todd and Richard Wyndam Woolsey? Because he was simply human. Surely Carson couldn't really have had his heart set on becoming an actor --

"Oh, for the love of … there!" Johnny heard Rodney's bitten off words and suddenly felt better -- well pounding headache and his ears popping as a result of Rodney and Sam's now completed spell notwithstanding. Rough hands quickly joined Katie's small ones, Rodney tugging on Johnny when Katie had only been just holding on, and shit! That really hurt!

Johnny's eyes widened and opened reflexively as new pain spiked behind them. He didn't recognize (well, actually, he didn't remember) the surroundings he was now taking in, but the situation before him was familiar enough. As were his responsibilities.

While Rodney and Katie pulled him to his feet, Johnny scanned the room for the rest of the gang, immediately finding Teyla and Jennifer off to the side. Teyla was working on some sort of electronic lock, Jen crouched down next to her behind a table that had been dragged over by the scuffmarks in the dusty floor. Johnny knew Teyla would protect Jen with all of her own formidable skills and spells if it came down to that, so Johnny put his sister's welfare aside for now. Ronon and Evan were still missing -- ah, no they weren't.

While he couldn't see them, now that he could hear beyond the ringing in his ears, Johnny could place the two of them across the room and through an open door. As well as hear the snarls of the Wraith they were fighting.

"Trap, huh?" he asked the room at large, but was relying on Rodney to blow up at him and answer. At least Johnny wasn't going so much with the steam of consciousness thoughts any more, even if stating the obvious was just asking for trouble. Now if the room would just stop spinning.

"Which you set off in your indubitable fashion," Rodney sneered as if Johnny had hurt himself on purpose and that purpose was just to vex Rodney.

"Ronon, as you can hear -- you can right?" Rodney looked at him a little more closely and Johnny nodded, though that sent the room spinning and probably only exacerbated Rodney's skepticism over Johnny's well being. Still, he only clutched Johnny a little tighter (or maybe it was mutual) and continued with a SITREP.

"Ronon didn't want to wait, once he confirmed you were still alive of course. So I took command here," Rodney manfully ignoring the snort from Sam's and Katie's direction, "while Lorne followed to keep an eye on him. Since this whole thing," Rodney now gestured widely with the hand not glued to Johnny's aching arm to encompass the series of rooms that Johnny still didn't quite remember entering, "absolutely reeks of being a set up by the League of Underwhelming Villains, there has to be something more to it than a wired window, electronic locks and a few hungry Wraith. We both know that Kolya wouldn't be content just having a Wraith kill you. No doubt he had Sora and Ladon rig up something a little more personal. I've cast a spell --"

"_We_, McKay," Sam this time did more than snort from where she taken up a position in the middle of the room to keep an eye on both Teyla's situation and toward the door Ronon and Lorne had disappeared beyond.

"We," Rodney repeated with a characteristic eye roll, "were casting a tracing spell. But so far we're coming up with nothing."

Johnny nodded, carefully this time, and felt a twinge but nothing quite so debilitating so he reluctantly pulled himself from Rodney's hold. At least he'd been thrown in to the building instead of being repelled. And that his setting off the trap had cleared it for the others to not be endangered themselves.

More warmed than pissed off that Rodney and Katie were both still hovering, Johnny then set about checking to make sure he still had all of his weapons. Ronon might be able to fight Wraith hand-to-hand, but even with Johnny being 'The Slayer' thanks to some mutant ancient gene he'd inherited, Johnny wasn't stupid (despite what Rodney always said) or as prideful as Ronon when it came to destroying creatures that sucked the life right out of you.

"You want to see if you can help Teyla get the door open?" Johnny asked as he took a few steps to make sure he wasn't going to fall down before he thought about charging into the fray.

"I can do magic or I can do computers, but not both," Rodney scowled. "And if you're going further in, you're not going without me."

Johnny could argue, but the truth was that he _wanted_ Rodney watching his back, even if at the same time he was scared shitless of placing Rodney in danger. He was still freaked that his once geeky best friend was now strong enough in magical ability to nearly destroy the world -- or only five sixths of it, as Rodney liked to correct them when they reminded Rodney of his bout of temporary insanity and power lust when he was first getting used to his powers. Rodney claimed he was only going to remake the world, not end it. That, in addition to saving his friends, he'd have allowed anyone who was a smart as him survive. Considering Rodney didn't judge anyone as smart as him …

"Okay, Sam, you and Katie stay with Teyla and Jen. If you get the door open or if something else comes up, give a shout. Rodney and I are going to --" Johnny gestured out toward where the sounds of fighting were now trailing off, not letting any of his concern for the others to show in his face.

Rodney was always yelling at him for trying to do everything on his own, berating him for not trusting his team and accusing him of belittling their own considerable talents. So Johnny _was_ trying to make an effort -- at least on the surface.

"All will be well, Johnny," Teyla offered with a hand wrapped protectively around Jen's shoulder.

Being the one who'd first clued Johnny into his heritage and what might be expected from him, Teyla was the one who understood that it wasn't that Johnny didn't think his friends couldn't take care of themselves. Or that they weren't an integral part of his own success against the Wraith and other demons and monsters attracted to the Hellmouth below Atlantis. But Teyla also knew that Johnny felt if he and his stupid gene hadn't awoken the Hellmouth in the first place, his friends wouldn't _have_ to be fighting for their lives on a regular basis.

Teyla had tried to explain his guilt away, assuring him that his moving here with his Mom and Jen had only hastened the inevitable. That the handful of known Hellmouths -- leftover remnants of the Ancestral Days of the World just like Wraith and other monsters who thought of modern Earth as new feeding grounds -- reappeared every few hundred years even without a Slayer's presence to trigger it. It was why she'd come to Atlantis herself, years before Johnny's family, as she was part of an ancient order called Athosians, who maintained the records and monitored the Hellmouths since the beginning of time. Yes, Johnny's arrival might have awakened the Hellmouth early but, as she liked to reminded him, it was only his presence that kept what spewed forth from consuming humanity. And that other cities, like Hoff, like _Athos_, hadn't been so fortunate.

Johnny understood all of that in return -- and he appreciated what she offered him. But it was still hard to remember when Sumner, his mom and so many others were dead because of the Hellmouth (because of him). When Evan or Katie or any of them (God, _Rodney_), could be next.

Not today. _Please_, not today.

"Yeah," Johnny eventually nodded. "Let's go dust some Wraith."

Only it looked like Ronon and Evan had already finished off the Wraith part of the trap, although only just, as Ronon was reverting to his human form when Johnny and Rodney caught up to them. Evan looked a little frazzled, more than a little green around the gills, but that was probably more from fighting alongside someone who turned into a wraith himself when he was angry than it was from the Wraith who'd attacked. Ronon was efficient and deadly beyond belief -- a great guy to have on your side. But he was also damn brutal and messy. There were reasons the Wraith feared Ronon like they feared Todd, his sire, and as much as they feared Johnny and his Slayer gene.

Right now it looked like Ronon might have been even a little extra vicious, probably because Johnny had been taken out of the fight right from the start and Ronon was still trying to prove he wasn't the enemy himself.

"So I guess we go hunting?" Rodney didn't even try to sound enthusiastic. He wouldn't be hesitating either, however.

Ronon gave them a feral, bloodstained grin from his side of the doorway. "There were only six. Lorne took out two himself."

"Way to go, Evan." Johnny started forward, Rodney on his heels. "Doesn't that put you one ahead of Rodney --"

"Hey, no!"

Only Rodney wasn't protesting Johnny's liberal interpretation of the dust count Rodney and Evan competed over. Johnny stopped as Rodney sounded his warning yet it still wasn't in time. This doorframe had been tagged just like the first window. Or at least it felt a lot the same as electricity or magic or _whatever _surged through Johnny's body and sent him flying. Again. And once more into darkness.

**2\. **

God, he was getting too damn old to be diving out of windows, even if it was just ahead of an explosion. Ears and head ringing and his eyes blinking and tearing fiercely, John stumbled to his feet with an unexpected side trip back down to his knees. Then there were hands helping steady him. Teyla's he thought at first, except Rodney had sent both Teyla and Ronon off on separate errands to tail Niam and Fran if John's memory wasn't even further scrambled, while John had gone to meet with Liz, who'd promised him some intel on where Oberoth was setting up his new lair.

Not Teyla then; this one was too tall anyway, and also not Liz even if the hands were also taking a few liberties under the guise of helping John to stay upright since Liz had made their meet only in the most literal sense, staring as a corpse instead of a confidant.

"Yeah, we found him, McKay," the ringing in John's ears clearing slightly quicker than the afterimages, letting him identifying one Inspector Jack O'Neill by his dulcet tones of lazy amusement. Meaning the overly familiar hands had to belong to Sergeant Mal Doran even before John accidentally buried his face in the glorious fall of her raven black hair.

"You're supposed to be checking me over from trauma and broken bones, Vala Darling," John breathed into her neck. "Not causing more."

"He's fine," Vala laughed and helped him over to O'Neill's sedan while the Chief of Detectives alternately assured and argued with John's boss over the car's R/T.

"Here, you talk to the crazy fucker," O'Neill thrust the radio's mic into John's hands. "Reassure him you're not dead."

John took a deep breath before opening his mouth; Rodney and O'Neill didn't really dislike each other as much as most people thought, but they both had a way of getting onto the other's nerves, especially in such circumstances where John was involved. Years ago John had been groomed to be one of O'Neill's detectives until a certain private detective had turned out to need John more.

"McKay, Rodney -- Rodney! Breathe. I'm okay," John ended up shouting to be heard over the earful Rodney had been dumping onto O'Neill. "Liz's dead though," he added quietly into the sudden silence, feeling a moment's regret and anger. Elizabeth Weir might have been a little too interested in helping herself to things that didn't belong to her -- including John -- but she'd also come through with information about some of the worst of Atlantis' bottom feeders like Oberoth, the head of the Replicator Syndicate as a way to make up for calling Oberoth's attention to McKay Investigations in the first place.

"But you're okay?" Rodney finally spoke again, in that weird mix of accusation and apology he most often exhibited when John got into something over his head. Like Rodney was sorry for having sent John into whatever mess it was this time, yet blaming John for being too slow or too stupid to avoid getting a little banged up or singed around the edges. Just because neither Teyla or Ronon ended up with house visits from Doctor Carson Beckett near as often as John did …

"I'm fine, Rodney. Nothing at least that the dry cleaners won't be able to fix." After a visit to Rodney's favorite seamstress, Katie Brown, John was beginning to think as he took a glance down at his own slightly tattered suit. Considering it and his shirt was black, the burns and the blood were pretty well hidden he thought, but some of it must have shown elsewhere given the concerned looks both O'Neill and Vala were now giving him.

"And I suppose that you'll be missing dinner while you explain how you were doing Inspector O'Neill's job for him again? Even though Radek is braising lamb chops tonight in his new, roasted tava bean and tuttle root chutney --"

"I think it was Lieutenant Kavanaugh who screwed the pooch on this one, Rodney, not Jack. But, yeah, I'll probably be late," John cut him off before Rodney waxed lyrical over the entire meal that John wouldn't get to try. Somehow Radek's meals rarely made it to seconds, especially if Ronon was coming in with a report. Even when there was something left, it never reheated as well as when Rodney's five star chef first prepared it.

"Hey, can you ask Radek to keep the turkey away from Ronon and maybe he'd make me up a sandwich for whenever I make it in?" John continued. "And if you'd make sure Parrish leaves a couple of lights on downstairs instead of just up in the greenhouse when he tears himself away from the orchids, I'd --"

"John, I'm not going to retire for the evening while you're still out on the streets," Rodney's voice dropped in volume and picked up in intimacy. "I --"

"It's probably going to be well after midnight, Boss," John tried to remind Rodney that they were not only being overheard by Inspector O'Neill and Sergeant Mal Doran, but also by Walter or Chuck at Dispatch, and who knew how many other officers down at the precinct.

Enough of Atlantis' finest already had plenty of reasons to dislike all of the employees who worked for McKay Investigations since Rodney was always showing the cops up whether they had a paying client or not. Sure, O'Neill might be tolerant of John and Rodney having more than a working relationship (and Vala was outright amused), but Chief of Police Landry was not so open minded, nor was District Attorney Woolsey. And most of the rank and file took their cues from Landry over O'Neill.

Which, when John thought about it, probably explained why McKay Investigations had all the clients Rodney needed or wanted, and why other than the unalienable fact that Rodney was probably the smartest person in the whole world, John, Teyla, Ronon were so much more successful in bringing so many miscreants to justice over the cops (other than O'Neill's people). Of course, in turn, because of their success rate and Rodney's reluctant willingness to work with O'Neill if he had to include the cops, that might explain why O'Neill's folks were also so much more tolerant in return.

Success rates _should_ be more important than sex lives. Well, to someone else of course. John and Rodney's sex life was definitely more important than catching bad guys to them; although if they weren't so successful in the former, he supposed they wouldn't have so much time to indulge in the latter as at least John would probably need to get a real job -- like working for O'Neill, well unless he wanted to be a 'kept man' and --

Wow, maybe he had banged his head in that dive after all.

"John?"

"John!"

**3\. **

Regaining consciousness while he was falling beat the alternative, Johnny supposed, but damn if the pain in his head was making it hard to think. Fortunately, he hadn't had to think about flaming since the first few days after he'd gain the ability, and flying was just as second nature to him as breathing. So he didn't end up a splat against the concrete, and only scorched it a little before he got himself back under control and back up into the air. Where to go was a no-brainer too; he might not remember the exact circumstances of his departure from the battle, but only Victor Von Oberoth would been arrogant (powerful) enough to steal the Atlantis Building and place it down somewhere in the midst of the Asuran Forest.

Johnny flamed a few of Oberoth's robots on his way back and worried about his team, but didn't try his radio since no one was calling him either. Either everyone was too busy fighting, Rodney was worried that Oberoth had hacked into their comm system or --

Or nothing, god dammit. They'd beaten Oberoth before, just like they stopped Cowan's Frightful Four time and time again, turned away Chaya and her Heralds, and sent Michael's Skrull Wraiths into hiding. Sure, maybe Oberoth was on his home ground …

Well, the Atlantis Building was _their_ home ground, and Oberoth had made a huge mistake if he thought Rodney wasn't going to be able to regain control of its AI computer and security systems. Atlantis was the de factor fifth member of the team and, hell, Rodney's genius was like a sixth.

Oberoth only had his stupid Replicators.

Given Johnny had been in the air when he'd revived, he supposed the broken window he'd spotted up on one of the higher floors could have been his launching point, Even if it wasn't, those windows didn't break easily so something was going on beyond it. And still coming out through it as Johnny dodge the bigger pieces of one of Oberoth's 'bots and flamed the smaller bits before they could cut him.

He caught a glimpse of an orange scaled arm that had aided its flight through the window still within Atlantis. Ronon was bulked up, of course, and obviously in the thick of things. No doubt Teyla was then using her own powers to protect Rodney while Rodney took apart whatever Oberoth had done to take control Atlantis and fly it over the ocean to Asura.

Johnny wanted nothing more than to join back in, to find Rodney and let Teyla kick ass with Ronon, but his own abilities were hampered within walls were Teyla would have to use one of her forcefields to protect herself or Rodney from Johnny's flame when any diversion from her real goal could be catastrophic and Oberoth smart enough to exploit that --

"Johnny, I've managed to block your presence from anything Oberoth might use other than his own fucking eyes," Rodney was suddenly whispering in his ear, obviously not worried about Oberoth breaking into their comms like John had been. "None of his Replicators are able to pick you up with _any_ sensor right now. So I need you to sneak into the lobby and get to the Fran model at the reception desk. I've also cut her out from the AI. I can talk you through setting up a directional EM pulse generator in her circuits, then all you'll have to do is get her to the nearest group of 'bots. She's going to be faster than any of Oberoth's creations since he's got them all slaved to his control. Well, except for his Niam proxy. But I'd prefer you don't tangle with him again since …"

Johnny knew Rodney had made a deliberate pause instead of the radio signal between them having gone out; now he could recall it had been the Niam model that had gotten the drop on him and sent him falling to his death.

"Yeah, I get that. Shame, though, about having to lose Fran." There was no way Rodney's own cute little AI interface manifestation would be able to escape frying her own circuits eventually with the EM pulse.

"She is just a construct, Johnny. Her programming really isn't even patterned on Elizabeth at this point, and I can duplicate her once this is over. Don't you dare start anthropomorphizing the AIs," Rodney started to raise his voice in anger or frustration.

"Fine," Johnny grumped back. He did not anthropomorphize anything but Atlantis herself, and_ never_ in front of Rodney, not since even _Ronon_ had started to teased him about being too fond of Atlantis. "But _I'm_ not the one who named the front desk computer and gave it boobs--"

"Fight now, flirt later," Ronon's voice broke into their communication link, the sound of Teyla's musical laughter echoing also over their link.

"Fine, Rodney snarled, then, "Johnny?" in a more contrite and warm voice.

Running into Niam again was a definite possibility and Johnny's head and body was still pretty achy from the first time.

"Yeah, I've got it," he landed to the side of the building and headed toward one of the hidden entrances instead of going in through the too obvious front door. "You've regained control of the security system, right, Rodney?" It'd be a shame to be taken out by their own defenses.

"I promise I've got you covered, Johnny."

It was only as the surge of electricity jolted him back from the window and headed into darkness that Johnny realized he had been right about the vulnerability in their comm system. And that Oberoth maybe knew a little _too_ much about his team. He'd gotten their voices and their thoughts down cold.

**4\. **

John Sheppard was getting damn tired of people trying to blow him up. Okay, so technically Malcolm Tunney's man had set this bomb for _Rodney_, as some sort of payback for uncovering Tunney's fraud scheme over at Kramer Innovations, Inc. going by the _fucking tape of gloating_ that was now trying to melt John's ears. John just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this was now twice for Rodney's apartment and John, plus John had been present when the Nakatomi building had been destroyed in LA, for that 747 at Dulles, then the New York subway station near the Federal Reserve and Lavin's freighter ship … 9/11. Hell, most cops never even fired their gun once during their careers, yet John had five bullet holes, three knife wounds and he'd actually lost count of the number of concussions, but at least half of them had come from being blown up.

He supposed he could be glad that Rodney hadn't been home when John had unlocked the door with his new key -- and that Tunney wasn't any better at creating bombs than he had been his 'weather control' machine. If he was lucky he'd avoid any hospital stay that might get back to his ex -- or Teyla, although if John was out of contact with his daughter for a day or two she wasn't one to get panicked (unlike Rodney). She'd just chalk it up to his and Rodney being in the honeymoon stage of their relationship, and probably laugh at them for being two guys acting a little too much like fifteen year old girls when they found out the boy that they liked, liked them back.

Ronon would probably have a good laugh too, not at the relationship, but that John had run into trouble yet again, like it was only because Ronon was his partner that John _didn't_ get into trouble.

"Is that fire going to spread?" Rodney's new next door neighbor, Amelia or maybe Emily asked John as she struggled to help him to his feet. Like Katie Brown before her, Amelia/Emily was a tiny slip of a woman, making even John feel bulky around her. But like John's daughter Teyla, she was some kind of fitness demon who was having no trouble getting John to his feet even if John's feet didn't want to stay standing, and she didn't seemed to be nearly as ruffled as Katie had been to have an explosion go off right across the hall. Now, to give Katie some slack, there had been bullets involved during that first one too, and Katie hadn't been the only tenant who'd moved even while Rodney had refused to.

"You got a fire extinguisher?"

"I live in New York City, what do you think? You going to be able to stay standing while I go get them?"

John nodded, even if he had a sneaking suspicion he was lying. That was okay, he could use his cell from the floor, too. Maybe even get a better signal. Right after he took a little nap.

**5\. **

Jonathan had been in this situation often enough to know not to give away that he'd awaken while he evaluated his surroundings. He wasn't dead, which was a start. He also didn't have his connection with the 'gate and Elizabeth, which was even more disconcerting than having been rendered unconscious by someone or something. Of having no memory of what had laid him low.

Being totally cut off from Stargate and Empress meant it was more than just a sorcery block. He could have been taken into the East he supposed, except that would have taken days and he knew he hadn't been out that long -- that no one could _keep_ him out for that long. John had also spent all of his early life in the East, and there were differences in the very air between it and the Pegasus Empire. He was pretty sure he was still somewhere within Pegasus. So, no 'gate access had to be a result of heavy duty sorcery (or witchcraft), which _severely_ limited the number of people he could have run afoul of.

Jonathan didn't have the necessary talent to do this himself, and while his cousin Jack _might_ (because Jack's mother was the goddess, Atlantis), Jack had no reason to do so. The same Jonathan could confidently say of Teyla, whom Jonathan had _no doubt_ had the appropriate power and skill. Teyla had absolutely no motive however. Sure Jonathan might piss off friends and family now and again as it was too much in his Dragon nature to take orders or advise from any one other than himself without chaffing. And of course he had his share of enemies; he was the Duke of House Dragon after all and had once been heir to the throne. But most of his real enemies were now dead, and only the foolhardy thought they could best him either in sorcery or sword. At least not without killing him.

Speaking of swords …

Ronon was still at his belt, as no one who wanted to live would willingly handle any _satedan_ weapon in someone else's possession, much less one of the Great Ones. Ronon's spirit was quieted, however, still present in the back of Jonathan's mind but somehow muted. Not enough that Jonathan couldn't tell that Ronon was furious, but then that was all too often his familiar's state of mind, leaving Jonathan unsure if the rage he was sensing was because of their current circumstance or from something else. Or perhaps Ronon's rage was simply an echo of his own.

Like now, there had been times when Jonathan truly wasn't sure whose emotions he was sensing between himself and Ronon, especially when it came to their common blood lust against the Wraith. During one lazy evening after they'd escaped to his private rooms away from the perpetual gathering of guests that was one of the hallmarks of Castle Black, Rodney had claimed they were one in the same, that 'Ronon' (and he'd made the finger quotes) was actually just a piece of Jonathan's own essence contained and nurtured by the nature of _satedan_ magics in the moment when Jonathan had first claimed mastery of the weapon instead of it claiming his life in turn, as was the nature of _satedan_ behavior. And while Jonathan had a more than passing interest in all types of magics and in all things martial, he'd been distracted by other interests he and Rodney had in common, and hadn't again thought about it until this odd moment.

Common knowledge had _satedan_ weapons being things to be feared, as anything that could render someone unrevivable should. And things to be outlawed, of course, other than for the possession of the Great Weapons which not even Gods could rescind. The Empress, however, was nothing if not _fair_. Given the nature of her subjects, she might not be able to totally outlaw duels and formal vendetta as would be her personal preference, but she could draw the line at people deliberately killing each other _permanently_. Such was the nature of House Phoenix, whose own lives were conceived in a cycle of death and rebirth no matter which House they'd first been born within. When the Phoenix reign ended and House Dragon ruled, no doubt the _satedan_ conundrum would be revisited.

Uncommon knowledge had _satedan_ metal being mined, wrought or cast only by the elusive Replicators, the alleged first children of the Lords of Judgment who'd been created in sole purpose to fight the Wraith and the Lords' ancient enemies, the Ori. It was whispered that the Replicators had turned on the Gods and been cast aside, crippled and deformed and secretly plotting vengeance although they had no love of the Wraith or of the Ori themselves. Considering that _satedan_ metal _devoured_ souls, and the rumor that one of the Great Weapons could even kill the Gods themselves, the vengeance part of the legend didn't seem so far fetched. Still, Jonathan knew of no one, included Teyla who was older than the Empire itself, who had ever actually met a Replicator. _Satedan_ weapons had a way of being found, however, despite the shrouded mysteries of their creation, with the lesser ones using the weak minded to fulfill their purpose and the Great Ones eventually being mastered by only the strongest of heart or will.

That said a lot about the company Jonathan kept.

He himself had bonded with Ronon Blackwand --a weapon and his witchcraft familiar. Elizabeth controlled the Stargate, of course, and through it the Sea of Chaos, all of Sorcery and the Pegasus Empire. Jack carried Jolinar Pathfinder, which was almost unnecessary as the blood of his mother ran strong through him and sorcery even strong. Teyla held Torren Iceflame and through it Dzur Mountain (or perhaps the other way around) as she had done for thousands of years, no matter how many thought they could take it from her.

And then there was Rodney McKay, who purported himself to be only a simple man. A simple man, for whom Jack and Teyla _both_ claimed as _brother_ from the first days of the Pegasus Empire, albeit in a reincarnated Easterner body. An _Easterner_ who just happened to carry a trinket he called Spellbreaker (that was actually a Great weapon unmade although Rodney refused to believe this), and someone Jonathan called lover despite the stigma attached to a Human mated to an Easterner. And despite the fact that on his surface, Rodney was quite an unpleasant man, not to mention being a member of House Jhereg, one of their assassins for hire in fact.

And someone Jonathan e'Sheppard, once heir to the Empire and now the next likely Warlord when Samantha e'Carter claimed the throne at the turn of the Cycle and made Jack e'Neill Court Wizard, would give his fucking left hand to have at his back right now.

Because Jonathan had figured out _where he was_.

There was a window in his most private room within Castle Black, one that looked upon different worlds and different times. One that Jonathan was charged with guarding because there were occasions when the window looked upon the Halls of Judgment even if it never showed the faces of the Lord Gods within.

Normally, the only way someone gained attention of the gods was through prayer -- or death. Entry to the Halls was always through the Paths of the Dead, were then your soul stood in judgment and was either Ascended, reincarnated or ended. Once upon a time, however, (the catalyst of his first meeting with Rodney), had needed access to the Halls outside the normal means, although he had been prepared for sacrifice had it been an absolute requirement.

For Teyla had discovered that Jack had, hundreds of years previous, accidentally been ascended by his own father in the cataclysm of Elder Sorcery now known as Jonas' Disaster (when Kelowna, which had once been the seat and the jewel of the Empire, had been rendered into a lesser sea of sorcery). And Jack was needed for the survival of the Empire.

Even Rodney (along with his jhereg familiar, Radek) with only a little persuasion and reluctance had agreed that Jack's life was more important than their own. So he had taken the journey with Jonathan into the Halls with little hope of being able to escape. Only Jack had been unwilling to live with their sacrifice and had confronted Atlantis herself to get them all released. But that argument had taken time and Jonathan had nearly succumbed to the allure of Ascension, would have, actually, had Rodney not been there offering something better. There had been a section of the Halls however, while they were waiting and dying and distracting themselves, a series of unending corridors and doors that one could wander through throughout eternity, never getting any closer to Ascension or the Gods. It was only once they'd returned to Pegasus that Teyla had explained her understanding of those corridors and doors, that they were the homes for those who failed Ascension but refused all other options, trapped forever in a kind of limbo as they also didn't have enough of whatever it was that made one of the Lords of Judgment an actual God.

Jonathan was pretty sure that was where he was now.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was right and that, surprisingly, he was actually alone. Something that was both good and bad. Good, in that whoever had brought him here wasn't around to further bedevil him; perhaps he had awakened earlier than expected. Being alone was bad, however as, in order to get out of the labyrinth, he'd need a guide. Only he'd been warned that first time that were he to return here while alive, he couldn't play the cousin connection again, that Atlantis wouldn't be able to intercede on his behalf no matter how devoted a follower he was of hers. So he wasn't sure any guide would be willing (able) to help him. He'd be damned, however, if he was just going to sit here and wait meekly -- for anyone.

To say that he was surprised to see Rodney in the first room beyond the door would be an understatement, but there his lover was, dressed in his typical house colors of gray and blue. Also quite typically, Rodney was arguing with someone, with the someone Jonathan suspected was the architect of their arrival here now that he caught sight of her.

"You okay?" Rodney called out upon Jonathan's entrance without ever removing his attention from Chaya.

Jonathan couldn't see Rodney's hands, but he had no doubt that they held something; Spellbreaker, a _satedan_ weapon, _somet_hing that was keeping Chaya at bay despite the false smile of confidence and condescension she was trying to pull off.

"As well as can be expected," Jonathan kept his own eye on the would be goddess although, for better or worse, he knew she wasn't about to hurt him. No, Chaya had decided sometime within last year that she _loved_ Jonathan.

She'd been quite disappointed to find out that Jonathan loved Rodney in return instead of her. But she had left them with only a pledge that Jonathan's feelings for Rodney were fleeting, just as his Easterner's lifespan was. That she would be patient and wait until Rodney's death.

Obviously she'd decided not to wait -- or perhaps to simply hasten Rodney's death as she'd apparently hastened her own.

"We're leaving now, Chaya," Rodney sneered and rose from the colorless divan that dominated the just as colorless room. Jonathan's black attire and Rodney's gray were the only slashes of life in the room, as even Chaya was now more white and glowing than the striking redhead glamour she'd worn as Jonathan had fled from her bedroom.

"You'll be back," she responded mildly, making no move to stop them. "Where do you think you can go? The Lords won't intercede and none of the petitioners will take the chance of interacting with you, not after the fallout from the last time. You have no one who --"

"What, you thought I took the trip through Deathgate Falls again?" Rodney cut her off with a laugh. "That I came here alone? You seemed to have forgotten, Chaya, that there is a way to leave the Halls of Judgment beyond death or Ascension."

Jonathan felt Todd's presence through his bond with Ronon before the Wraith actually manifested. _He_ had forgotten about the other way himself, even though Todd spent most of his time in Castle Black when he wasn't off communing with other demons of his kind. Ascended, dead or _un_dead were all of the options, although Todd was the only Human in recent memory who'd proven strong enough to retain a sense of his former honor and humanity after becoming one of the Undead (Teyla, after all had become Undead hundreds of thousands of years ago).

Todd was a necromancer, was _The Necromancer, _ with few even remembering he'd once had another name. A creature who touched two worlds and somehow managed to survive the contradictory nature of such an existence. He was also an ally of sorts, never a friend of course, but still someone Jonathan found himself sympathetic for and occasionally working with, just as Todd felt the same in return for whatever unfathomable reason.

The Halls of Judgment were where Todd had become one of the Undead, and the Undead obviously had their own ways of coming and going, outside of the influence or wishes of the Lords, Jonathan could only conclude from the sudden smirk on Rodney's face, and the look of absolute shock now on Chaya's.

"This will most likely hurt you more, Jonathan e'Sheppard," Todd spoke in that sepulchral yet lyrical way he had, almost as if two voices were trying to come from one throat. He reached for Jonathan's arm while Rodney moved to stand with them. "As it is your blood that had the power to break us free, yet it is also what compels and keeps you here. But it should not kill you -- either of you," Todd then smiled, not really reassuringly.

Jonathan imagined humor would be very different once you died. Just as was an affectation for understatement, since 'hurt' was not the word Jonathan would have used to describe what he was tearing through his mind and body.

"And if it does," Todd's voice echoed in the darkness, "I suspect the two of you will prove quite entertaining as Undead."

**6\. **

Waking up in pain never got easy, even if it did become familiar over time and reoccurrence. At least this time John knew he was also waking up in an infirmary, clinic or hospital going by the smell of chemicals and astringents, and by the sounds of the beeps, pings and the moans and cries he could hear, some of which probably belonged to him.

So, just another typical Saturday night. In the ER.

It was a damn sight better than waking up in an alleyway, of course. Or on a futon at his mom's (although a cup of her _stout_ tea wouldn't go amiss to ease the dryness in his throat). Or in the Morgue, even if then he'd be under Rodney's care then instead of some overworked, overstressed nurse or doctor. That thought had a surprising amount of comfort flavoring it -- other than the being dead part.

"Don't try to move or talk, Detective," Samantha Carter spoke from somewhere near a shoulder that felt off.

Not dislocated, but John supposed it could have just been not dislocated any longer.

"Ronon's gone to pick up Doctor McKay and to see if he can find Master Emmagen to bring her here too."

John blinked his eyes open and sighted on his Captain. "If Mom's not at her dojo, she's probably over with The Ancient's, um Charin Halling," he dredged up and croaked out the legal name of the woman everyone in the Atlantis section of the city just called The Ancient at her blank look.

Sometimes he forgot that Captain Carter had only been his boss for a few months, given how comfortable he'd become around her and how easily she'd fit in at the 101st precinct. But Carter had none of the familiarity of the city or its peoples like Charin. And too, John only had to recall that Carter had been hired to replace his foster mother, Elizabeth Weir, after her untimely death, before the rest of the memories associated with that came back with a vengeance.

"Charin's apartment is over on 63rd," he added.

"It's about four in the morning, John," Carter placed a careful hand against his lower arm. I imagine even Athosian Masters have to sleep some time."

You'd be surprised, John thought but didn't voice as Carter looked worried enough that John knew whatever had happened to put him here in Jennifer Kellar's ER had been serious even if John actually felt okay, considering he'd lost consciousness at some point.

Someone else must have gotten hurt too -- or maybe gotten dead -- to bring out the Chief of Detectives from her own bed at three or four in the morning. For a moment John panicked and tried to fight against the hand that tightened around him and her admonishment to stay put until his own body put forth the more convincing argument.

"Everyone is fine," she assured him quickly, proving that she'd become comfortably with his ways pretty quickly too. "Well, everyone you'd care about," she hedged with a hint of a grin that did a lot to help John relax. And make her look too damn young for her position of authority.

"But when there's an explosion in Atlantis and the head of the local Tong is carried out in a body bag while one of the city's detective's is unconscious nearby," she then explained, "Mayor Woolsey expects answers quickly. Be thankful he didn't also feel the need to send Police Chief Landry down to interview you instead."

Actually, John had a pretty good idea Woolsey would have indeed tasked Landry with such a job, and that Ronon had been the one to call Sam instead to have her intercede. But there was no point in calling Carter on her polite fiction.

John was well aware that Hank Landry had always been leery of John, especially as Elizabeth Weir had been his boss when John had joined the precinct. Rules and common sense should have had John transferred to a different department if not precinct, and Elizabeth had made no friends when she'd insisted the two of them could work together without letting their personal feelings for one another interfere.

Elizabeth's reasoning had it because the 101st had the jurisdiction over Atlantis, an insular community where few of its residents were willing to trust or even contact the police when something happened. John, with his half Atlantean heritage, was one of the few cops who had connections and even some friends in the community like Charin -- and now his mom. He even had a relationship with one of the lesser crime lords, Todd Heyerdahl, due to a life and death situation in the past involving a common enemy, which had proven as useful on occasion as it was still troubling. Pointing out that all of that would have been lost to them if John had been relegated to work something other than Homicide or transferred to another precinct, fortunately former Mayor O'Neill had been smart enough to agree and so had given Elizabeth and John an exemption to the regulation that family members couldn't work in the same department in the same precinct.

No doubt Landry had figured bringing in someone like Samantha Carter as Elizabeth's replacement would either muzzle John or force him away (no doubt Landry's preference), since Carter had had a reputation as pretty old school herself as well as a stickler for rules and regs. Someone who should have been guaranteed to dislike of loose cannons like John and Ronon. But Carter was even smarter than Jack O'Neill, not to mention of a bit of a maverick herself underneath the spit and polish. She was also not remotely political -- unlike Elizabeth -- so John wasn't really all that sure how long she'd end up lasting. For now, though, the department's success rate gave her the ammunition she needed to fight her boss and City Hall, while it also let her pretty much ignored that fact that a couple of her detectives had a tendency to greatly value contributions by civilians and lab techs instead of ignoring him like the rest of the department did.

Carter also got along better with John's mom than Elizabeth had --better, actually, than John did himself although he certainly loved Teyla, of course. But for most of his life he'd thought Teyla Emmagen was dead, just as Teyla had thought of him in return, and John had grown up without the ties to his Atlantean heritage, which had the two of them all too often fighting to find common ground outside of common blood.

"Jesus, John, what did you do to yourself this time?" John heard before Ronon, in his customary green lensed sunglasses despite it being oh dark thirty, ushered in the Department's preferred coroner, Doctor Rodney McKay (who also happened to be John's not so secret lover) along with John's mom, Master Teyla Emmagen, passed the appropriate curtain and into John's bed cubby.

"Happy to see you too, McKay," John croaked back even though he was pretty sure Carter was one of the ones in the know about their relationship.

For her part, this time Carter seemed to hear more than just his words and moved to grab the glass some thoughtful nurse had left for when John woke up despite the bag of saline and whatever else he had pumping into his veins (and out through a pesky catheter). At least the water glass meant that John hadn't been impaled in his side or stomach again by something in the explosion he was now vaguely remembering.

"John, you are well enough?" Teyla asked more solemnly and formally, folding herself over to rest her forehead against John's after he'd emptied his glass and laid back down against the slightly elevated bed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, unable to help shooting a glance Ronon's direction first. Actually, John had no fucking clue how he was, since he hadn't been awake during triage and his sense of well-being could just as likely be due to good drugs as it was a relatively intact body. Fortunately Ronon nodded back at him and Rodney was muttering but not panicking over what he was reading from the chart at the end of John's bed, so he figured he was safe enough in trying to reassure Teyla.

Still, he thought there were still some pretty good drugs involved somewhere, or maybe this nurse who finally came in to check after all the noise was slipping a mickey into his IV line, because abruptly in the next few seconds everyone was getting pretty fuzzy around the edges and Teyla morphed into Rodney standing over him.

"Don't worry, John, we'll be here when you wake up again."

John thought it was Teyla speaking although Rodney's mouth was also moving. He really only cared that it was Rodney's lips doing the kissing as well as Rodney petting and thereby telling him he didn't need to fight any longer.

**7\. **

That J'thon woke up relatively pain free and not slathered in numbweed told him a couple of things. One, he probably hadn't run afoul of _thread_ or an angry Holder thus sustaining any serious physical injury -- otherwise, the need for numbweed which, although he was feeling a little muzzy, he wasn't feeling drugged. And two, whatever had happened to him had most likely been accidental and incidental, since the last thing he remembered was waiting with Teyla and R'non for Rodney's arrival, and certainly his Weyrleader and his Senior Wingsecond would not do anything to harm him. Nor would Rodney, at least not intentionally, of course. Only the MasterHarper _did_ have a habit of finding interesting things that sometimes were not quite so innocuous as the Harper himself. And Rodney had been on his way to the Atlantis Weyr because he'd located something described by AIVAS that he was dying to show the Weyrleaders.

PJ rumbled a greeting in the back of J'thon's mind which told J'thon the most important fact to his current situation, that his dragon was unharmed. And so were his family, since PJ wouldn't sound quite so sanguine if the situation were any different. PJ worried about J'thon's people as much as J'thon did, and were any of the other dragons or dragonriders injured (Rodney!), PJ would have been unable to hide his own distress. Or be able to feed, which he obviously had given the smug sated emotion J'thon was also receiving.

_The MasterHarper comes, _ PJ passed on next, although J'thon didn't really need the forewarning as Rodney never made a quiet entrance.

_Athosia and Teyla are keeping Sateda and R'non distracted in order to give the two of you time for your greetings and lesser matings since Rodney was quite worried. _

Not that Rodney would show it, J'thon knew. But Rodney knew that PJ would know and tell J'thon, so Rodney didn't need to show it either. Sometimes having a dragon that expressed your feelings better than you did was a pain, but sometimes it was pretty handy too now that they'd discovered Rodney could hear not just PJ, but all of the other dragons in the Weyr too.

_Be advised that Lord Holder Woolsey and Holder Weir are almost to the Lower Caverns and they've brought Cowan and Koyla with them. _ PJ continued to brief J'thon. _Something about the MasterHarper trespassing on Koyla's Hold and stealing something is what Athosia has gotten from Lady Elizabeth's fire-lizards. I think they're talking about the same object that exploded when the MasterHarper handed it to you, but the images are vague and shadowy as you might expect from the little ones' tiny brains. _

Shards! Dealing with even the intelligent and sympathetic Holders like Elizabeth and Richard all too often ended with J'thon coming away with a headache anyway; the priorities of Hold and Weyr were just too different to derive equal accommodation without a _lot_ of talking. And sometimes a lot of drinking. But adding the dour Lord Cowan and the even more unpleasant Holder Acastus Koyla to the mix pretty much guaranteed that J'thon would end up feeling like dragonshit -- which he did already because of this headache the size of Teyla's young Queen, Athosia he'd awakened with.

"Technically, I was only recovering what Ladon and Sora already stole from Journeywoman Miko and Harper Radek," Rodney defended as he came into J'thon's bedchambers, for once not taking his normal caution to hide his ability of dragons despite not being a dragonrider and despite whomever might still be hovering nearby in attendance because of J'thon's collapse. Rodney continued to J'thon's bedside and leaned over to give him a gentle kiss. "Healer Jennifer said you would be fine despite me almost blowing you up. So you are well?"

Not that he was really gainsaying the Healer, J'thon knew. Rodney might have preferred MasterHealer Beckett for his own treatment -- or J'thon's -- but Healer Jennifer had proven her own skills time and time again, even to Rodney's satisfaction. And maybe a little to Rodney's consternation since she had a crush on the MasterHarper.

"Well enough, as you also know from PJ, "J'thon grinned with a nod, then contradicted himself from being unable to mask the groan when the pain in his head spiked from even that faint movement. J'thon decided he must have been 'blown up' pretty well.

_You flew ten feet all on your own, _ PJ laughed at him.

"Idiot," was all that Rodney said, in that certain tone of fondness and exasperation he seemed to reserve only for J'thon and for Rodney's handful of fire lizards, all of whom were conspicuously absent except for brave little Newton who _liked_ PJ instead of being terrified by the great bronze. Newton's tiny snout was poking out from beneath the collar of one of Rodney's finest shirts.

J'thon didn't remember Rodney arriving in that shirt (not that he remembered all that much of Rodney's arrival in the first place), but no doubt the MasterHarper had well anticipated the probability of Cowan and Kolya's complaint and so had brought all things appropriate with him upon leaving Harper Hall in order to attend to what was promised to be a contentious and formal … discussion.

"Help me up, please," J'thon ignored the renewed pain in his head -- oh, and body too -- along with the lopsided frown Rodney's face fell into as J'thon began levering himself from the excessive amount of furs Healer Jennifer always seemed to insist upon to make a sick bed. In addition to the frown, Rodney's eyes were losing some of their fondness in favor of growing exasperation, although for once he held his tongue. It wasn't as if he didn't know why J'thon needed to be on his feet.

Lord Holders and Holder lords could not be received in J'thon's bedchamber despite what might be for the best to J'thon's health. And J'thon wasn't about to force Teyla, R'non and L'rone to deal with the likes of Cowan and Koyla, not to mention Rodney, without his presence. Rodney knew this intimately, having been present during any number of the rants by those two of how the Weyrs were leeching the life's blood from the Holds even during this current Thread Pass. Because Rodney had also been there when J'thon and Kolya had first clashed over Kolya not accepting Lady Elizabeth's _no_, Rodney having tried to intercede first, only to receive a knife wound that J'thon still berated himself for not having killed Koyla over in return.

Unfortunately, Koyla enjoyed all of the protections and rights as a Holder, and as such, was answerable only to his own peers and not Weyr (or Guild) justice. The claim then had been that Koyla was in his cups and had only meant to scare the MasterHarper from interfering, that he hadn't _intended_ to cut Rodney's arm or any other portion of his person, and that the broken arm in return Kolya had gotten from J'thon in the course of disarming the Holder had been punishment enough. That too many of the other Holders feared the power and threat of Lord Holder Cowan to join their voice with J'thon or Lady Elizabeth seeking harsher punishment was just an unpleasant fact of life, when even the censure exhibited from the Harper and Healer Guild Halls in removing their people from Cowan's land hadn't been enough to sway those Koyla answered to. Which left J'thon now with only the surety that eventually the Holders would realize the snake in their midst or, perhaps more likely, one of Kolya's or Cowan's own people would turn against them and bring both of those men down.

_Still, it would be nice to be the ones who rid Pegasus of Kolya instead of leaving it to chance_, PJ growled wistfully, causing both J'thon and Rodney to burst into laughter -- and causing Teyla to look at them in turn with one of her expressions of strained (fond) patience when she entered around the furred door covering to J'thon's chamber at just that moment.

Teyla's eyes searched the both of theirs for a moment, a lightness showing in her eyes when she deemed things well and safe enough, although her contentment didn't last. "I am sorry for the interruption, J'thon, MasterHarper Rodney, but Harper Radek has called through the farspeaking stone to say that Cheyenne Weyr has just sent a rider to Harper Hall. It appears that whatever happened here with the gift of the Ancestors also destroyed something similar in Cheyenne Weyr that Weyrleader Samantha had obtained for study."

"Is Samantha okay?" Rodney asked before J'thon could.

Because Samantha had first studied to become a Harper before _accidentally_ impressing Jolinar, Rodney still had a tendency to think of her more as one of his than as part of a Weyr, something Wingleader J'neill was significantly annoyed by (as J'thon was quite often reminded during the Weyr councils), although Samantha herself seemed quite amused. Samantha also still had a tendency to spend almost as much time study the ancient tech they'd begun recovering after the discover of AIVAS as she spent caring for Jolinar, so it wasn't as if Rodney was all that wrong --

"She will recover and MasterHealer Janet is sure she will regain all use and flexibility of her hands, but she was burned as if from _thread_," Teyla informed them gravely. "Weyrleaders J'neill, Teal'c and MasterHarper Jackson are quite distraught however, as is to be expected. As is all of Cheyenne Weyr. The Cheyenne Wingleader simply wants to know if you might know what happened and why. They are not blaming you," she added when Rodney's face fell into its own distress.

J'thon closed the distance between them to offer his own comfort, taking away the leathers Rodney had been helping J'thon get back into, letting them drop to the floor so the two of them could hold only each other.

"MasterHarper Jackson has, in fact, speculated that something Samantha had been doing might have been the cause of what happened _here_ instead of the reverse." Teyla offered Rodney a gentle smile.

Rodney was shaking his head, but at least now looked more speculative and reflective than sick. "No, ours was the trigger although it is quite possible theirs would have done the same had J'neill been the one holding it instead of Sam." He looked up at J'thon's snort and Teyla's own wordless question at how certain he know was.

"What?" Rodney frowned. "Surely you've both noted how certain of the ancient technologies interact different around J'thon, J'neill or L'rone? Carson thinks it has something to do with Bronze Riders' blood. The MasterHealer has identified a genetic trait in _all_ dragonrider's blood that isn't present in the rest of us. He's claiming that something in this gene actually dictates what kind of dragon a rider can impress. That it is also a trigger for being able to use different items from the Ancients' ship. All of which makes sense if you think about it We've already learned that the Ancients tinkered with the indigenous animal life they found when they landed here on Pegasus, giving us our Dragon companions, the dolphins and such. Why wouldn't they have also modified their own genes? And that's what makes it so damn frustrating when Holders like Kolya, Cowan and Otho keep the artifacts for themselves. They _can't_ use them."

"Do you think Koyla did something to this one before letting you steal it back?" J'thon asked, preferring to consider the security implications of this new, startling news instead of the personal implications.

Many of the Holders and even some of the other Weyrs had started objecting to how the discovery of their forbearers' ship, their knowledge and so much advanced technology was changing life and society much to quickly and too drastically. Because Atlantis Weyr (along with Cheyenne Weyr, the Healers and the Animal Husbandry Guild) supported Rodney's enthusiastic championing of these chances, they had become the polarizing figures in the ongoing debate and J'thon wouldn't put it past Koyla (or Cowan) to shift from thinking of them as polarizing into a target. If news of Carson's research also became public, the Holders' low level resentment could also turn a damn sight worse.

Rodney scowled. "If he did, I don't care who's protecting him. Nor will J'neill or Daniel given Sam's injury. If we could prove--"

Rodney stopped mid sentence, and it took J'thon a few seconds to realize it, to think that maybe it was because he was no longer trying to offer Rodney some sort of comfort but was instead holding onto Rodney just to stay standing himself as his headache was suddenly overpowering.

"I believe that in light of what we have just heard from Cheyenne, Lord Holder Cowan will yield, however ungracefully, to postponing his petition until representatives from Cheyenne and Healer's Hall also arrive here in Atlantis," J'thon heard Teyla suggest as if from a distance. "I will ensure that Atlantis will extend its hospitality to all of our Holder guests and suggest a rescheduling of any meeting until tomorrow in order to accommodate the distance and difference in the sun cycle Cheyenne must endure in their coming here."

"Good idea," Rodney breathed into J'thon's ear, his tone a mix of concern and condemnation, although never for Teyla.

_Indeed_, PJ offered his own opinion in the back of J'thon's mind, with a few images and suggestions of how he felt Teyla and Athosia's rules of hospitality should follow in Cowan's and Kolya's situation.

Both were welcome and soothing in their own way as the Weyr faded around J'thon as if he'd jumped _between_.

*******

John knew this time he was home well before he opened his eyes, the subtle murmur of Atlantis' technology and the feel of the proper world slotting into place in his brain, although each of the other worlds had felt absolutely real at the time. No doubt because Rodney and his friends had been with him in all of those other Atlantises. His memories of those past awakenings were already fading into something more like a dream in his mind, the loss of clear recollection probably a good thing given how out there some of the worlds had been. Not that wormholes connecting galaxies that contained scores of alien lifeforms wasn't out there too. But dragons? And being able to fly because he could alter his molecules into fire?

Sure, John had understood the concept behind the multiverse even before he'd learned they were real through his own jaunt forty-eight thousand years into the future or getting trapped aboard the _Daedalus_ version of the _Mary Celeste_. But those instances, and the others on record at the SGC, had all been fork in the road differences, worlds realized after and when Schrödinger decided to open his box. John hadn't realized, however, that Schrödinger could be the cat himself, or the box a feeling and the cat a tone -- or _not_ tone. That it wouldn't matter if no one had ears to hear it.

Needing to rewrite his world view after learning of Ancients, stargates and that Atlantis was real was one thing. John wasn't sure his brain was really up for discovering that the fundamental laws of nature were entirely mutable, that _any_thing he could imagine might be real … somewhere.

Although it was going to be great to tell Rodney that the Looking Glass, complete with White Rabbits and Cheshire Cats was real.

Even if someone had broken it.

\-- finis --


End file.
